A Very Explosive Christmas: Potterlock
by Violet Verner
Summary: " Do you really want to mess with me, Sherly?" " The game is SO on, Moriarty!" Sherlock, John, Molly, and a new friend are staying at Hogwarts for Christmas this year. Unfortunately(though John isn't sure Sherlock feels the same way) so are Moriarty's friends! The game is on, and sparks fly!
1. The Kindling

Christmas at Hogwarts was wonderful for any dedicated Ravenclaw- the library was to die for, an intellectual's dream, what with rows upon overflowing rows of leather bound spell books. But for on third- year in particular, it was an escape to happiness.

Sherlock Holmes didn't like going home for Christmas holiday- Mycroft had graduated from Hogwarts and already held a "minor" position in the Muggle Government(though the Holmes family was pureblood, they enjoyed muggle life; in fact, Sherlock planned on being a detective instead of an Auror), and Mummy and Father were boring, so he opted to stay at school this year.

As soon as he woke up Christmas morning, he washed and changed, ignoring his presents under the tree adorned with blue and bronze decorations, and headed to the library. One of the many perks of staying at school was that eating was optional, so breakfast was skipped. We was very eager to have the library on whole to himself so he could read without being bombarded by idiots. On a normal day, handfuls of slackers would come up to the young Ravenclaw to ask for help with homework. The first two years, he helped gladly, but he made a fatal mistake: he made off-hand deductions about people's lives. Rumors spread, and he was quickly deemed freak. People still used him for help, sometimes, but only a few Hufflepuffs who he could tolerate. Solitude in the library, then, was heaven- sent.

He piratically ran through those familiar oak doors. It took him less than a minute to find the book he wanted, then curl up in his favorite chair by the window, his robe covering his feet as if he were at home; in a sense, one could say he was. In fact, that's why he wore a robe on top of his comfy button-up an dark jeans(that's comfy to him-the Holmes family is fancy)- it felt like a dressing gown, and he felt pride in his house.

Sherlock had been lost in his book for some time, absorbing new spells and sorting them in his Mind Palace, when a familiar voice called out. He looked up, surprised. In front of him, a boy his age with sandy blond hair and a warm smile stood. It was his friend, John Watson.

Many people speculated as to how the odd pair became: One was a Ravenclaw, the other a Gryffindor; one distant, calculating, a freak, the other friendly, agreeable, warm; one mysterious, with the air of a Slytherin, the other loyal to his friend and comforting with the air of a Hufflepuff.

In reality, they perfected each other. When the question arouse as to who had stolen the Sorting Hat as a joke, Sherlock immediately volunteered to find it. As Sherlock paced the grounds upon the second hour of the search, the came across the John, deduced his (dead, pity) mother was a muggle detective("Of sorts...") and thought he could be of use. The conundrum was solved two hours later, the Hat was returned, 50 points were taken from Ravenclaw and Slytherin ("Only a Ravenclaw could figure it out, and only a Slytherin would have the cunning to do it," Sherlock had said.) and 75 points were given back to Ravenclaw, and 25 were given to Gryffindor for John's help. But more importantly, a great friendship was established.

"There you are!" John said, taking a seat next to his friend. "Wasn't expecting to see you at all," Sherlock replied. _Oh_, he thought, and began to deduce._ Problems with Harriet, obviously._ But he remained silent.

"Always nice to feel welcome!" John said with fake hurt in his voice. Sherlock said nothing in reply, only rolling his eyes. " Harry's being a real-" John proceeded to say a word his mother would have slapped him for, I'm sure, then continued, "-So I decided to stay here."

Sherlock deduced that his sister had been making fun of John's magic again. John was muggle born, which could always be a difficult situation- either you were made tormented by Jim Moriarty's gang of Slytherins, or you were made fun of at home.

Sherlock and John had a bit of a history already with Jim Moriarty. There had been rumors of them being a bit _too close_,(bit of a scandal still, in the '80s), of Sherlock being the one to steal the Sorting Hat and return it for his own glory, and both of them get into the Dark Arts. It was obvious that Moriary caused it, and all because he was bored.

Harry's torment of her brother added to all of that kindled Sherlock's rage. But again, he said nothing. Wanting to break the silence, John said, "Wanna go to the Great Hall, get some breakfast?"

"Not hungry."

"I'm starving!"

"Go ahead! I'll meet you on the grounds later."

"But, Sherlock, you can't be here by yourself!"

" Obviously I can."

" You shouldn't be alone at any time on Christmas!"

" Then stay with me if you must!"

John fidgeted. He would have, but he could have sworn he saw a certain Irene Adler. "People will talk."

"People are stupid," Sherlock replied, still not looking up from his book.

" Yeah, would you say that about the Girl?" John asked, devilishly. The Girl. The nickname the whole school had for Adler, and the name Sherlock called her, in respect for the time she mentally equaled even him, Slytherin that she was.

Sherlock calculated the possible repercussions of the Girl seeing John and he alone together in a corner of a deserted library, and relented to John's idea. He snapped his book closed, signed it out, almost snapping the quill as well with all the pressure he used, and stormed out of the library towards the Great Hall, John right behind him.

" Idiots!" Sherlock spat, voice rising, "Love and sentiment and intimacy, ALL they care about, controlling their minds-"

"Sherlock-" John tried to interject, tugging at his friends robe sleeve.

"-And you and I can't even walk down the halls together without being accused of being in a romantic relationship, when we are merely colleges-"

" Oh, Sherlock, dear!" a honey-sweet female voice cooed. Sherlock and John turned around to see a fifth year Slytherin in a scandalously short skirt and tight shirt under her black and green robes, with her silky hair done up perfectly, and her make-up done as if she went to a parlor.

" Hello Irene," Sherlock said, not- quite faking a smile. The game was on.


	2. The Spark That Started It

Note from the author:

Thank you for reading thus far! The next few chapters will be much cooler, promise. There will be spells used in the immediate chapter, and some need explaining, just in case you forgot the book:

_Engorgio: _Makes the target's head enlarge.

_Finite Incantatem: _Reverses most spells.

_Orbis: _Creates a hole in the ground near target's feet.

There shall be others in further chapters, but let's take it slow! Thanks,

V.V

John had already noticed Irene whilst Sherlock was off ranting, and had tried to take him down an alternative route, but in vain- they were how face to face with one of Moriarty's gang.

"Still dating Johnny, are we, Sherlock? How naughty!" she said, in a mock-distaste tone.

" We're not a couple!" John yelled for the millionth time.

" Yes, you are!" she replied. John was going to open his mouth again, but Sherlock interjected. " And this is coming from the girl who has dated half of the boys in Slytherin House in popularity pecking order. Surprised you're not with Moriarty yet!"

Irene only shrugged. " What can I say, sweetie? I misbehave, and get what I want. I'm a Slytherin- "any means to their ends", that's what we do! Of course, you'd know!" She smiled wickedly.

"That's-what? Irene, have you gone blind?" Sherlock said, pointing to his blue and bronze scarf. " I am a Ravenclaw!"

" Yes, but the story has it, you tricked the Hat to get you into Ravenclaw so you wouldn't have to face the wrath of Big Brother! Cheater!"

"Oh, come on!" John said, laughing in spite of himself. "Are you guys running out of rumors now? Sherlock is a natural genius, it doesn't take the bloody Sorting Hat to see he belongs in Ravenclaw!"

"Shut it, Watson!" Irene snapped, losing her cool for the fist time. If there was one thing you didn't do, it was insult fellow Slytherins, even remotely. " You don't deserve to be in Gryffindor, in fact, you don't belong in Hogwarts!" she said, stepping towards the boys. Sherlock's blood was boiling by now, and he reached for his wand in his pocket reflexively. Irene continued, looking at him now.

"Sherlock, we could be great friends," she cooed, playing with his scarf. But then she dropped it, as if out of disgust. " But Jim's right- you're a blood traitor, you and the whole Holmes family! You could never be in Slytherin! 'Sides," she said, playing with his curls now, to _his _disgust, " You're not interested in me! You have plenty to choose from! Who? Well, the Hufflepuff girl, for one. And the Mudblood next to you, of course!"

That was it. John would never be Sherlock's boyfriend, Sherlock didn't believe in that kind of thing, but no one, not the Girl, NOBODY called John H. Watson a Mudblood in the pretense of Sherlock Holmes. " _Stupify_!" he yelled, and Adler flew backwards several feet and hit the floor.

"Sherlock!" John yelled.

"She called you a Mudblood!"

"Doesn't make it okay to_Stupify _her! No, shut up, yes, I'll fight with you! Can't believe I'm doing this!" John groaned, drawing his beech wand. Sherlock smirked, and John rolled his eyes. Irene came back, her wand drawn as well.

"Johnny, boy, out of this! Just Sherly and I, dueling rules, unless you want me to call a friend!" John looked at Sherlock, who nodded. The former backed off, then said, finger pointed at Irene, " But I'm watching you, Irene, make sure you don't pull anything! Wands at the ready!" he said, as they got into positions. " Three... two... one!"

On one, Irene yelled "_Pertificus Totalus_!" Sherlock would have been frozen on the floor, if he hadn't cast a protective charm mentally. That's when Irene noticed her mistake: though she was two years older, Sherlock was still the better wizard. She was considered advanced for being able to light her wand mentally, yet here was a third year casting a full strength _Protego _internally! Said wizard smiled. " Sure you want to continue?" he taunted.

"_Stupify!_"she replied. He blocked again. " _Engorgio!_" he said, testing the new jinx he learned this morning.

" _Protego! Orbis!_"Irene said. Sherlock blocked mentally again. Then, still mentally, he cast, _Tarantallegra!_

All of a sudden, Irene found her feet dancing uncontrollably. She forgot how to stop it! John could only laugh loudly. Sherlock let out a chuckle as well. After Irene got herself under control, she said, " Shut it, Mudblood!"

" _Silencio_!" Sherlock said. Suddenly, Irene felt her tongue curl up in her mouth, and she could no longer speak. John laughed loudly again, Irene stamped her foot, and Sherlock bowed.

"That was fantastic, Sherlock!" John said, patting him on the back. "So, she won't be able to be able to talk or cast spells, unless-"

" Unless someone reverses the jinx for her, yes," Sherlock said, smiling.

"Brilliant," John said. Both boys turned on their heels to walk to the Great Hall, but they stopped dead in their tracks. From behind them, a high voice said, " Well, good thing _I'm_ here then!_Finite Incantatem!_" Sherlock and John turned around.

"Hello, Sherly, Johnny Boy! Nice to properly meet you face to face! Sherlock, dear, you did a marvelous job of that jinx! Not as good as _me_ of course, but still!"

" James Moriarty, I presume?" Sherlock said, not really asking. He already knew from whispers around the school and his own profiling: he was facing a third year Slytherin, with sleeked back brown hair and psychopathic honey colored eyes, a devilish grin, and a slight Irish accent- he fit perfectly.

" It's Jim! Goodness, Sherlock, thought you'd of known better, doing all that research on me- stalker!" Sherlock then saw what had bugged him for these few minutes they'd been chatting- _Oh, you absolute- and I thought that _I _used her, but even I'm not that bad! Maybe I won't-_

" You're one to talk!"

" So, you know about that! Yes, I did do some... digging... I wanted to see my equal! Well, my, what is it? Counterpart- I cause trouble, you solve it, but you'll never be my equal, I'll always be better than you! Yeah, it's been fun, but now you're in my way!"

" Thank you!"

" Didn't mean it as a compliment!"

" Yes, you did."

" Okay, yeah, I did!" Moriarty said, shrugging. " But, flirting's over, Sherlock, Daddy's had enough now! Time to see what you're made of!" he said, drawing his oak wand and holding it in dueling position. Irene, John and Sherlock raised theirs as well.

" No, Irene, dear, just Sherlock and I."

" No, John, just Moriarty and myself this time." Moriarty and Sherlock said at the same time. John and Irene lowered their wands, begrudgingly.

" But, Jim, I want to kick that Mudblood's butt!"

" But, Sherlock, I want to take that sly jerk down!"

" No, Irene, listen to me!"

" John, not now!"

" Fine!" Both John and Irene said. There was an awkward pause.

" Well... that was weird," Moriarty said, wand still raised high.

" Yep."

" Guess I'm not the only one with a loyal dog!"

" Hey!" Irene and John yelled. Ice blue and honey brown eyes rolled.

" Do the honers, John," Sherlock said.

" Three... two... one!" John said. Sherlock would have been hanging upside-down by his ankle, and Moriarty would have been blasted several feet, when suddenly a large force field came in between them. They rushed towards it to investigate.

" This wasn't you?" Sherlock asked, sure it wasn't.

" Really? Can you be so stupid, I was standing poised the whole time! It wasn't your pet was it?"

" I'm not his pet!" John yelled!

" Whatever! It wasn't you?"

" No," another voice said, " It was me!" From around a corner, came Molly Hooper.

" Molly, what are you doing here?" Jim and Sherlock both asked.

" _Silencio!"_ she screamed. Great wizards they both were, they had not seen this coming, and felt their tongues curl up. They each tapped their wands on their heads to end the spell, but did not speak, for actual fear of the Hufflepuff. Good thing too, because Molly snapped. Molly Hooper, Hufflepuff of all patient and kind Hufflepuffs, became a Gryffindor for a minute.

First, she went to an unsuspecting(and so non-reacting, thank goodness) Irene, and slapped her strait in the face. " That- was for calling John Watson, the kindest boy I have ever met, a Mudblood!" Irene would have jinxed her then and there, but John had silenced her behind everyone's back.

Molly then turned to Sherlock and hit him as well- twice. " This- is for starting a duel in the middle of the hall on Christmas morning, betraying the promise you made me! And THIS- is for not telling me what a crazy psycho my EX-boyfriend is!"

Sherlock could almost smile now- it was Jim's turn, and he got the worst of it.

" YOU- UTTER- WRETCH! HOW- COULD-YOU? You said I was pretty, and that even though I wasn't perfect, it was okay, because perfect is boring, and that it didn't matter I'm a Hufflepuff! You said you really liked me! But you just did it to get to Sherlock? You dishonor Slytherin House- Ah!" Molly yelled as she flew several feet back. Moriarty drawn his wand under his robe while she was ranting. That was a mistake

" _STUPIFY_!" Sherlock screamed, and Moriarty flew back about thirty feet and hit the floor hard. Irene ran to his side, giving Sherlock and John time to run to Molly's. She said she was fine, but both boys knew she was very hurt from what Moriarty had done to her- more mentally than physically. Sherlock didn't understand, but he could intellectually comprehend, and kind of felt bad that his friend had dated his enemy, and he hadn't been fast enough to break it off. John just wanted to change the subject.

" Thanks for sticking up for me, guys. You didn't have to do that."

" M-my pleasure," Molly said, quietly, faking a smile, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to gush. Sherlock only nodded in response. He was contemplating his encounter with Moriarty. He had never met another 13 year old as talented as himself before. If Jim Moriarty was anything like what he thought he was, then this Christmas was going to be interesting.


End file.
